Yojimbo's Stories
by Renmiri
Summary: Yojimbo's fayth finds himself on a mortal body after 800 years trapped in his cave. This is his story. I'm experimenting with ways of telling the story so chapters might change a lot. please leave feedback reviews if you like it
1. Chapter 1 Becoming a Fayth

Note: Yojimbo means bodyguard in Japanese, which is usually the only job that the Ronin (masterless samurai) were left to do. Yojimbo's fayth Rowen is inspired in one of the most famous Ronin on Japan's history: Miyamoto Musashi, the famed swordsman. See Wikipedia for details on the real life version of "Rowen".

**Part I - Becoming a Fayth**

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Rowen's Early Years**

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Rowen aka Yojimbo is immortal now, but since he died at 25, that's how old he appears. He is actually 800 years old, born right after Lord Mi'hen formed the Warrior Monks corps to complement his Crusader order. He lives in the Cave of the Stolen Fayth.

Elf like tall and thin like a reed, with delicate features Rowen often fools opponents into thinking he is weak. The truth is he is quite strong and extremely agile. His hair is black with large patches of gray - it has been this way since he turned 23. His eyes are steely gray with a glint of ice. He wears knee high leather boots, a short grey travel cape, loose fitting brown pants a black shirt, long black gloves and a leather jacket. He is rarely seen without his sword and without his dog Seika by his side, a tan colored mutt with white fur patches on his chest, head and paws that Rowen raised since it was a puppy. In his Aeon form Rowen shows up as Yojimbo, the body guard, which appears together with his faithful lion-dog Daigoro, both dressed in full traditional warrior garb. A fierce mask compliments Yojimbo's costume. 

Rowen is very independent, he thinks he knows it all, is headstrong and easily offended. An extremely skilled swordsman, Rowen rose to the top of the Warrior Monks very fast, which made him quite full of himself. While alive Rowen has made many enemies with his stubbornness and arrogance and he eventually left Bevelle in disgrace. After his fall from grace Rowen changed a lot. He is now a loner, very quiet and stands back at every situation observing everything with keen eyes, only talking when talked to. He saw the error of his ways and now he hates seeing arrogance anywhere particularly when he sees it coming from himself.

He considers honor very important and will not go back on his word. Rowen is also a fiercely loyal friend to those who he deems worthy. If you get lucky enough to achieve a high level of trust from him you can ask him for his life and he will give it to you. But very few have deserved that honor in the past, and after he died betrayed by someone he did give his life for, it is unlikely anyone ever will again gain such confidence from Rowen.

The dishonor of his name is a chip on his shoulder and Rowen gets quite aloof and uncooperative if he feels you disrespected his honor in any way, sometimes for the silliest things. Usually, after a cool down period, he will see the pettiness of his actions and relent. But he has been known to hold a grudge for centuries. Rowen is also a penny pincher and is always concerned about money.

When he was 10 years old Rowen was ordered to be a monk by his father who had promised one of his offspring to the Church. He never saw his family again, as Sin attacked Luca and they died in the attack. After two years in Bevelle's priesthood school he got to be very good at sword combat and combat in general. At 12 he caught the eye of Lord Mi'hen who had founded both the Crusaders and the Warrior Monks a decade before. Lord Mi'hen took him under his wing and made Rowen a swordsmanship teacher to the Warrior Monks when he was 16. When Rowen reached 19 he was already the lead combat teacher. After he reached 20 he was put by his mentor Lord Mi'hen ahead of preparing candidates to be warrior monks. While in that post he helped Lord Mi'hen write several books on strategy and sword fighting and what he (and Lord Mi'hen) envisioned the warrior-monk's life should be. 

Their teachings weren't limited to swordplay and strategy. As an elite corps the Warrior Monks were required to know how to heal and Rowen came up with the requirement that warrior monks had to know how to decorate temple books properly with long, clumsy ink pens. According to Rowen this exercise in calligraphy would teach the recruits discipline, patience and how to have a light touch. He wanted his pupils to know what to do when brute force could not be used to resolve problems. Never one to suggest something for his pupils that he was unable to do, he excelled at calligraphy also, drawing the flowery Yevon's symbols with ease and perfection.

After his fast rise to the top of the Warrior Monks, Rowen got quite full of himself and his prideful streak got the best of him. He demanded many honors and was quite opinionated. Rowen was also quite fond of his cadets and frequently got in rows with the temple powerful because of it. This attitude won Rowen many enemies in the Church's power structure but since he was under Lord Mi'hen's protection no one could touch him.

At 23 Rowen lost his protector and mentor. Lord Mi'hen died and suddenly he was an easy target for his many enemies. His only protection was the fact that the Warrior Monks corps adored him and would follow him to hell if needed. Unable to ban him, his enemies managed to weave a web of lies that got Rowen in deep dishonor, stripped of all his posts and titles. With his dishonor, his enemies had made sure he could not join the Crusaders. His life as a swordsman and teacher was over. To get him away from Bevelle they also transferred Rowen to the lowest post they could find: An acolyte at Kilika Temple.

23 years old, disgraced and far away from his disciples and friends Rowen sulked in the remote village. His only friend was a puppy he rescued from a trashcan. He named the puppy Seika - Sacred Fire - in honor of Kilika's temple and Aeon. Deeply depressed, Rowen felt that his disgrace was a dishonor to his family's memory. He also felt that he was abandoning his pupils and letting Lord Mi'hen down. His worries and troubles made his hair get littered with gray streaks. Rowen even contemplated harakiri – the samurai suicide – but he realized that as the sole heir of his family name he could not give up until he cleared their name. But how ?

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**A Final Aeon that never was **

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**As an acolyte, it befell on Rowen the task of training the village's apprentice Summoner. The young lad - Ghirlon - treated Rowen with respect and deference and came daily to get training not only in the teachings, but in combat as well, since he would eventually have to go on a pilgrimage. Ghirlon's commitment to giving his life for Spira and his deference slowly chiseled away at Rowen's aloofness and mistrust and they became friends. Meanwhile, Rowen's dog Seika grew into a charming tan/white mutt who obeyed Rowen's every command.

When Ghirlon became a Summoner he invited Rowen to be his Guardian and Rowen accepted gladly. Not only he was truly fond of the young lad, but this was the chance he had been waiting for to clean his family name. As former Warrior Monk, Rowen also had a deep seated desire to aid Spira in defeating Sin. His one condition to Ghirlon: Seika would accompany them.

After many adventures Seika, Rowen and Ghirlon found themselves at the Zanarkand Dome, face to face with Yunalesca, who now demanded a life to provide Ghirlon with his Final Aeon. Rowan accepted the sacrifice but begged Yunalesca to let him keep Seika since the mutt would be abandoned without him and Ghirlon around.

Yunalesca granted his wish and turned them both into fayths for Yojimbo and Daigoro , giving Yojimbo Zanmato to defeat Sin. Yunalesca then told Ghirlon that his friend would become the next Sin, and that the reprieve to Spira would be only temporary.

Ghirlon trekked all the way to the Calm Lands mulling on what he learned. He had dedicated his life to battle Sin but now he was having second thoughts. He was only 17 and would give his life away just for a temporary relief ? And he would make his best friend become Sin ?

Arriving at the foot of Mt. Gagazet, Ghirlon decided to abandon his plans and hide his friend's fayth stone. He wanted to make sure Rowen wouldn't be used as a Final Aeon by the next Summoner who fell for Bevelle's lies. Leaving Yojimbo's fayth stone deep within the Cave of the Stolen Fayth he went on to Bevelle, changed his name and never looked back.

As a fayth, Rowen made it to the Farplane and waited for Ghirlon, and waited... and waited.. 50 years later he saw Ghirlon in the Farplane and his friend finally told him what he had done.

Instead of getting relieved that he did not turn into Sin, Rowen felt betrayed. He had given his life to relieve Spira of evil and bring honor to his name and to aid his best friend. Instead, once more his name was in disgrace, now a failed Guardian in addition to being a failed Monk. And worse, now, 50 years later he could not do anything to fix it. Rowen told Ghirlon his feelings and never talked to Ghirlon again.

**Part II - Awakening**

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**Yojimbo joins the battle against Sin**

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In spite of being stuck in a locked chamber deep inside a cave, Rowen could sense a change in the air. After 200 years there he could hear the fiends slithering eagerly to snack on the few fools who ventured inside that cave. But this was different. This time the noise from the battles was much closer, and the pyreflies of fiends were a lot more numerous. He had seen the pyreflies of a bewildered man in his 20's floating around but then someone had performed a sending. There was a Summoner nearby. 

The mere thought of having a Summoner this close made Rowen blind with fury. He would not let himself get used by those unworthy cowards. Never again!

The noise of the teleporting pad powering up interrupted his thoughts. The Summoner materialized in it.

Angry, Rowen turned into Yojimbo and attacked the Summoner with all his might, only holding back on using Zanmato. Even hating Summoners with a passion he could not bring himself to kill one. They were on the same side after all. The Summoner was Gandof and without using Zanmato, Yojimbo eventually lost the battle and he was back to being Rowen.

- "Why did you attack me ? Don't you want to be my Aeon ? Didn't you hear my prayers to you, requesting your aid ?" asked Gandof

- "I care not for prayers or Summoners. I will not aid you" answered Rowen curtly

- "I find it most curious that a fayth – someone who willingly gave his life to the cause of defeating Sin – will not aid my quest to defeat it. Is there a particular reason you turned back on your vows ?" asked Gandof calmly

Gandof's jab about him turning back on his vows stung Rowen. He never had turned back on his word and never would. He relented.

- "I did NOT turn back on my vows to defeat Sin. It is you cowardly Summoners who turned your back on me." he answered

- "How so ?" asked Gandof

- "I was created at the end of my Summoners pilgrimage, to defeat Sin, which I willingly gave my life to do. Yet my Summoner abandoned me in this cave and never battled it" said Rowen

- "What is this you talk of ? Your Summoner ? What do you mean ?" asked Gandof confused

Rowen told Gandof about his life, about Kilika, about his pilgrimage, Yunalesca, the need for a sacrifice for a Final Aeon, Ghirlon's betrayal, everything. It felt good to talk to someone after all this time alone.

Pitying him Gandof told him that 200 years later no one remembered Rowen's dishonor, but the Crusaders were in a sad state, penniless and without a good leader. If Yojimbo helped him he would give him his fortune, and with that money Yojimbo could secretly fund the Crusaders and keep Lord Mi'hen's dream alive.

- "Now that you know one of your Guardians will have to die, then become Sin, you are still willing to go through with it ?" asked Rowen truly surprised.

- "Spira is in a sad state my friend. After 400 years of Sin there are entire continents gone, we are just left with this one. The islands, Achadia, the land of the Mithras, all gone. Entire races gone. This can not go on. I will defeat Sin and bring respite to Spira before it drowns in sorrow and despair" answered Gandof

- "Then I will help you, but I'm afraid I can not be your Final Aeon. There needs to be a deep bond between the Final Aeon and his Summoner and we have just met. I will do my best, but it may not work"

- "No need. My childhood friend waits outside, she is my Guardian and will gladly give her life to save Spira. Besides, you need to be around to take care of the Crusaders, right ? I am honored to have you as my Aeon and I will keep my word. 250,000 gil will be waiting for you as soon as I can mail the orders to the bank" said Gandof smiling

Yojimbo / Rowen joined Gandof and the rest is history: Gandof went on to be the first summoner after Yunalesca who defeated Sin, with Yojimbo's and all other Aeons' help. And before their final battle Rowen was able to transfer 300,000 gil to the Crusaders account, as a mysterious donor.

But after Gandof died Rowen's spirit was back to his cave prison, and he stayed there for over 300 years until another Summoner came to request his aid.

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_Trivia_:

1) There was a very popular series in Japan about a Ronin that worked as a bodyguard and had his toddler son Daigoro with him. "Lone Wolf & Cub". There is one of the series that is in English with IMDB title: 0081506.

2) Famous Japanese film director Akira Kurosawa made a movie called Yojimbo about a Ronin thta saves a town from a gang of troublemakers


	2. Chapter 2 Disturbance on the Farplane

**5 years after Eternal Calm**

Author's note: Evadne, Midori and most of the Farplane merge story come from the Spira ORPG I'm in at ezboard

In the distances music and laughter could be heard, the fayth's were having a party! A bit far away from the dancing and music Midori stood by the Farplane lake, with her friends Evadne and Odan...

Arriving at the fayths party Seymour was ecstatic. His spies had managed to get most of the fayth in a small area. His plan had worked! Who knew a few barrels of ale and some music was all it took to reunite the most powerful beings of Spira all in one place ? How convenient for him, who needed this massive amount of concentrated magic for his spell to work.

All the fayth's combined magical energy was so powerful that it destabilized all in the the magic in their vicinity, including the barriers that divided the farplane and Spira. Using the distortion as a starting point, Seymour started to concentrate to cast the spell that would break those barriers

Seymour failed at his first attempt. Puzzling about it he saw two fayth alone by the lake's edge. Water! That had been his problem. The spell needed to be cast close to water so the pyreflies could be woven to add power to the spell...

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Tee hee...Purdy pyreflies...A half conscious Midori gave a lazy smile as she batted at the flying glowing things. Almost had one...almost... It took a few tries but finally her hands cupped together glowed gently through her fingers as a trapped pyrefly bashed against her hand. Awww, how cute. "Don't worry, I'm going to name you...Sparky!" Sparky didn't seem to like his new home too much, not calming down a bit. 

"Odan! Lookie here!" Stumbling to her feet, a difficult task without squashing her new friend, she looked around for the other fayth and frowned before spotting Evadne nearby.

"Evie! Evie!" Ooh, she liked that nickname. It was sort of cute. "Evie! I caught one! I caught one! Where's Odan! He's got to see this!" Giggling, she slid to the floor on her knees. Geez, the alcohol was really taking it's merry time getting out of her system...

"Midori..Not so much liquor next time, eh? Or you'll miss more than Odan being summoned.."

She stared down at the light twinkling in Midori's hands. A pyrefly, she gave a bit of a smile. Sitting beside the other Fayth she waited with the girl, watching the Pyreflies.

"What do you think we should do to Odan when he comes back?" she questioned aloud, "He can't really be one of us now that he's been summoned... I wonder who even came through his Temple.."

Odan was summoned? Midori's smile fell as she let her hands fall into the lap, the pyrefly whizzing happily out of her hands. So he was now one of the "summoned" as some of the fayth said. One of the ones who were supposedly more important. If Cindy bragged one more time about it, she was defiantely going to go aeon on her and squash that little bug!

"You won't leave me and be a summoned, would you?" Midori asked, looking up Evadne with sad eyes. The older fayth was like a sister to her. As far as she knew, her own temple was lost somewhere. She doubt anyone had ever found it, and if they did, they probably didn't care to ever summon her. Not if they had all the other fayths who were almost like celebrities like Ifrit and Ixion. Peh, what was so special about them? "Don't leave me, Evie, okay?" she whispered. "Don't go get yourself summoned and have to keep leaving." That was what Odan would probably look forward to. It was what happened to all the other summoned fayths. Once summoned, they were sure to be summoned again.

"I won't be summoned small Midori," she said thoughtfully, "Those small few that have come across my temple were not worthy on Leviathan. And that was ages ago.. I'm not going anywhere. Corran is lost.."

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"Is it lost?" she looked up immediately at that voice, sinister and mocking and meeting eyes with the spirit of the Maester of Yevon, Seymour. Evadne frowned at his presence and shook Midori awake. 

"What is it you want?" she almost hissed at him, not hiding the coldness in her, "You would not make yourself seen before the Fayths unless you have some plan of ill intent. And even then.. I don't know why would search for us."

"My dear..." he feigned innocence, "I merely wish to help you. I have seen how you suffer here, longing for your life again.. or perhaps longing for a new life. To prove yourself for real. I can help you.. allow me to demonstrate."

She stood to stop him, bitter that he had pried in her head, seeking her memories, but the power that came from him forced her back.

"Corran shall rise again, My dear!" he laughed wickedly, drawing power from some unseen force, "Everything will be how it once was! When world's and memories collide!"

He concentrated again, this time remembering to draw on the water's augmenting powers for his spell. Tapping his staff on the floor twice he cast the spell that broke all magical barriers between the dead and the living... He gathered all the stray pyreflies and their energy, shaping them as a huge lancet. He aimed the magical shape at the cracks and fissures on the many magic barriers his trained summoner's eyes could sense around him.

One by one he made them bigger, weakening the walls between the worlds of Spira and the Farplane, managing to get a barrier ripped here, another one there, reviving people, monsters and cities. Absorbed in his mad task, Seymour barely noticed there was a large rupture on the time / space barrier near where he was at. Exhausted after his spell casting, Seymour was unable to prevent a vortex from swallowing him into it's black void. The time vortex caught him completely by surprise and he got dragged into it, staff and all, leaving the farplane to parts and time unknown.

He vanished then and the ground shook. Evadne dropped to her knees. Crawling to Midori she grabbed the small drunk girl.

"I don't know what he's done... it's not good though.."

Before she could finish her sentence, the two Fayths vanished from the air swallowed by the vortex too. The Farplanes shook and using the memories of the strong Fayths that had gathered in numbers over time, the world of the dead faded and reformed merged with the lands of the living. The cities of old dazzled in mists of enchantment, of what they might have been like in times before their ruin. Zanarkand appeared to reconctruct from it's mass of rubble, cities rose from under oceans and water. Though they appeared ghostly in appearance, much like those that had also returned, the walking souls of the Farplane, good and evil. Appearing in places where memories had ended before...

Evadne landed in heap uppon a cold marble floor, Midori landing beside her. Groaning, from a pain she had not felt in ages, Evadne opened her eyes. What had he done? Her vision cleared and she stared out at the misted city.

"It can't be... Corran.. it sank.." she stood, moving slowly to a dimly lit light. There was no doubt now... this was Corran.. above the waves of the Moonflow. "Sinking to the floor again, Evadne covered her face with her hands... old memories returning."


	3. Chapter 3 Yojimbo Reborn

Summary of previous chapters: A disturbance in the Farplane brought by an evil plan hatched by Seymour weakens the barriers between the Farplane and Spira. This causes some of dead and the fayth to return back to life, and also causes some of the ancient cities destroyed by Sin to reappear. Yojimbo finds himself on a mortal body after 800 years trapped in his cave. Having died in Zanarkand's Dome, being made into a Summoner's Final Aeon, his "rebirth" takes place in the spot he died, which now is in the middle of "reborn" Zanarkand Blitzball Stadium. This new Zanarkand is the Zanarkand of 3 years before the war. People in it returned with no memory of the war and their own death.

Note: Except from the fayth, all that return from the Farplane have no memory of their own deaths and of the war. Their memories vary from just before the war to 1-2 years before it but the ones who remember the most can only remember rumors about a possible war between Zanarkand and Bevelle, no one remembers the actual war. Being a fayth, Yojimbo/Rowen has no such luxury: He remembers every single one of his last 800 years.

**Part III - Rebirth Zanarkand Reborn: Dome - Freedom**

Rowen woke up with a start. A blinding light pierced his eyes and the noise assaulted his ears. This wasn't his familiar prison at the bottom of the Calm Lands gorge.

- "Oh, sorry buddy, didn't mean to wake you... What the hell !" said the stranger alarmed at seeing Rowen's sword one inch from his throat.

Rowen looked at the man who had tripped on him: Young, with baggy overalls, no weapons and a broom in hand. He seemed harmless. Rowen lowered his sword without saying a word.

- "Thanks, I think I'll just clean up the other wing, if that's ok by you buddy. All right ?" said the man slowly retreating, wanting to put as much distance as he could between him and this stranger.

The boss better not complain that wing F was not well swept! Dealing with a maniac with a sword sleeping on an empty blitz stadium on broad daylight wasn't part of his job description!

After the man left Rowen looked around puzzled. Where was he ? He could see a blitz sphere, but in a much more luxurious stadium than Lucas. No, this was new. Never in his 800 years he had seen a place like this.

He had heard that some fayth were coming back to life but never expected himself to be one of those. His was a different case. He was not from the age of Zanarkand's prime, he was created much later, by a completely mad undead Summoner.

Zanarkand! That must be where he was. He recognized the stadium now. Many in the Farplane had described it for him.

It made sense. His body had died at Zanarkand, at Yunalesca's Dome. This must be on top of where the dome was, or at least near it. This craziness in the Farplane wasn't very predictable but one thing seemed to be constant: revived people would wake up close to the site they died. And he had died in Zanarkand, giving his life to a Summoner, to be his Final Aeon.

The memory of his betrayal by Ghirlon still felt heavy, even after all those years. He had given his life willingly, but he had not included his family honor in the gift. With his betrayal Ghirlon took away from Rowen his only chance to redeem his family name and his own name. And that would take a lot more than 800 years to forget. Even if it had granted him his Yojimbo form.

Being back to life was a nice surprise. A cool breeze was blowing, the day bright and sunny. Rowen could smell food being cooked nearby. The sun hurt his eyes but it felt good on his skin. He wondered if he would be able to taste the food. Taste! Smell, touch, taste, how wonderful they felt, after 800 years without it!

He hated the reason he was back - Amon's evil meddling - but he was glad fate had given him this second chance to be alive on Spira.

His stomach complained loudly. He had forgotten the downside of being able to taste food. One must eat to stay alive. Oh well, that kind of problem would be a welcome change from his life.

Up to now his life had been spent either locked in a deep dark cave waiting for Summoners or being at a Summoner's beck and call to be their Aeon . Not that he had minded serving Yuna or Braska, those two last Summoners had been outstanding masters, honorable, dutiful, committed to good and respectful of him / Yojimbo. But their predecessors!

Another pang of hunger reminded him that his days of endless meditation were over. Rowen walked out of the stadium following the smell of food. He was glad he always kept his pocket full of gil, he would need it now to pay for the food.

**Zanarkand Reborn: City - A stroll through a city reborn**

Rowen looked at the vibrant city fascinated. So this was the famous Zanarkand the other Fayth missed so much!

No wonder, just in his walk from the dome he was able to see that this city was much more vibrant and active than Luca. The people smiled more and there were no Church vultures around, no Yevon signs to revere or make the bow every five minutes. A very pleasant place, but he couldn't stay.

Given another opportunity at life, Rowen had set himself on the quest that had dominated the last 3 years of his previous life: Clean his name, his family's only legacy.

To do that he needed to find out if the snakes on Bevelle had also come back to life. He also had to seek for his family, as they too could have been revived by this madness in the Farplane. And they would be revived at sea!

The thought alarmed Rowen. He knew his father and his older brothers were good swimmers but he couldn't remember if his mom could swim. He had been only 10 when they drowned, their ship attacked by Sin near the Omega ruins.

If they came back, they were in serious danger, even if they made it to shore. The Omega ruins was no place for exhausted castaways to land. Many a Summoner party, well rested and composed of trained fighters, had perished there. He himself had been in one of those while being Yojimbo to a Summoner.

Rowen cursed himself at the memory. He hadn't held back, he could see the dungeon was too dangerous for his usual games with the Summoner. Every time he was called he performed Zanmato. But the Summoner had called him too late, many of the larger beasts there were immune to his Zanmanto and Break moves. To make matters worse, all the other Aeons were gone by then. He and Daigoro had truly done their best but the Summoner and his entire party had died unsent. They probably were fiends by now.

The pain of failure couldn't make Rowen forget his duty to his family. Time was of the essence. He had to make his way to the Omega Ruins shore and stand guard there, rescuing his family and /or any others who were revived at sea!

Remembering he was human now he stopped at a market to gather some supplies, healing and shielding items, tinder for fire, etc... Rowen knew exactly what he needed, having done this kind of trips many times with his past Summoners but he was still awed and confused at the variety of new goods this revived Zanarkand merchants had for sale. In a rare deviation from his penny pinching ways he even allowed himself to buy a gun with some dreadfully expensive "Cry in the Night" bullets . Those were guaranteed to work on Break immune opponents had said the vendor. If this was the same "Cry in the Night" Yojimbo had seen when Yuna conquered the Bevelle Cloisters dungeon those bullets were priceless. If they weren't that vendor would feel his wrath later.

Well fed and with supplies bulging from his travel pouch Rowen left Zanarkand on foot, taking the ramp to Mt. Gagazet

**Mt. Gagazet Summit - Giant Flan Attacks**

Rowen quickly got to the summit, not bothering to stop at the Fayth Scar and the Hot Springs. He had only paused long enough to glance at the statue of Yuna that the Ronso made.

While trekking the mountain Rowen was absorbed in his thoughts. He was almost fond of the serene and brave High Summoner. Of the Summoners that he had aided over the years she was in a class apart, along with Gandof and Braska. Not only they had defeated Sin, but they had been friendly, respectful and honorable.

But of the 3 three High Summoners he had had the honor to accompany Rowen had only allowed himself to befriend Gandof. He owed that much to the man. Six hundred years ago Gandof had saved him from going slowly insane abandoned and alone as he was in the bottom of a deep fiend infested cave. He had been there for 200 years, in a cave at the Calm Lands Gorge, immortal, unable to rest his wondering spirit. Thanks to Gandof he had had a goal in his afterlife: to preserve his mentor's dream. He started to take part on pilgrimages, and that had brought in enough Gil to fund the Crusaders for the past 600 years. Lord Mi'hen would be very proud of him, wherever he was.

The pilgrimages added variety and spice to his life and he was not allowed to brood for centuries like Yunalesca and Shuyin had. Rowen felt his anger rising. Yunalesca had her defects, but she had never manipulated him or brought dishonor to his name, so he could forgive her insane actions. Forgiveness for Shuyin was much harder. Shuyin had used Vegnagun to force him and the other Aeons to control fiends and to battle Yuna. By making Rowen turn into a dark Aeon Shuyin had cast him in even more dishonor and shame. Rowen could not make himself forgive this insult. He knew Shuyin had been insane at the time but that was no excuse. Not for what he did. One day he would settle this score.

Lost in his memories but not distracted enough to miss his surroundings Rowen saw a Giant blue Flan jump in front of him. With his cat like reflexes he quickly dodged the fiend's first Blizzara attack while he reached for his sword.

With a skilled leap he delivered a "Break Armor" hit with his sword. No effect.

Darn it! His body's 25 year old guardian reflexes had come back as sharp as ever, but his mind was still of an 800 year old. He had forgotten the giant flans on this cave were immune to physical attacks.

Cursing himself Rowen rolled on the floor to avoid the fiend's Osmosis attack that was coming. Yet another failure of his clumsy old brain: He should have gotten himself a Reflect shield already!

He got up close to the fiend and used his Wakishasi knives to deliver a "Break Magic" spell. A back flip got him away from the beast, far enough to allow him time to look for a Mana Spring item on his pouch. This would drain the Flan's magic points constantly while Rowen's "Break Magic" hits chiseled away at the beast's life points.

But the beast was no dumb Water Flan. It had already cast a Reflect around itself and Rowen's Mana Spring was useless. Cursing himself Rowen rummaged his pouch for his Dark Mage dressphere. He hated having to use this artificial method to enhance him - true Warrior Monks and Crusaders never did it - but he wasn't about to lose his second chance at life here on the Summit. As soon as he arrived at Omega Ruins he would set himself on a grueling training routine to get his brain as combat ready as his body was.

The beast landed a Blizzara attack while Rowen's dressphere was still activating. Brrrr! He had forgotten how miserable a cold spell made one feel. His teeth chattering Rowen concentrated and cast Darkness on the fiend. He felt a searing pain on his skin, it was only for the briefest moment, but the surprise almost made him drop his sword. His befuddled brain had forgotten Darkness exacted a price in pain from the spell-caster. Again his 25 year old body had taken in stride what his 800 year old mind was still struggling with.

There, the beast was half dead already! he thought, satisfied with himself.

But he had crowed victory too early. He still did not have a Reflection shield in place and the Flan easily retrieved it's lost health by using a Drain spell on Rowen.

Dizzy with the draining Rowen decided to end the battle: He cast the "Dark Sky" spell from his Dresphere skill set. With his 200+ strength attribute it would trounce the Flan with 10-12 hits of 500-1,000 damage points each. That spell could make even an Aeon pause in it's tracks.

The spell worked as planned and pretty soon Rowen was alone in the cave again, the Flan melting into pyreflies after the 10th blow. Exhausted, Rowen quickly lit a fire to keep fiends away and made camp.

You are pitiful Rowen! he said to himself. Physically and mentally drained after just one battle with a flan ?

He wasn't being fair to himself. The giant flans in this cave had killed many Ronso and many Summoner parties. Besides, after spending 800 years battling only in his Aeon form he was bound to have some troubles adapting back to his body's physical limitations. Aeons didn't get cold, didn't bleed and had innate shielding ability. Braska and Yuna had been smart and kind enough to give Yojimbo the Aeon versions of Esuna, Cure, Reflect, Protect, Dispel and Shield spells. As Yojimbo he had not had to battle so unshielded for centuries! And usually when Yojimbo got called in battle the fiend already had received a healthy dose of powerful hits and dispel potions from the Summoner and his party. This time Rowen had had to do it all by himself, in a completely unfamiliar body. Well, not completely unfamiliar but unfamiliar for the larger part of a millennium...

Rowen cursed himself: Excuses, dresspheres.. Taking the easy way out was not the way of the Warrior and he knew it. His lack of preparation was unforgivable.

Ashamed he once again vowed he would get himself back into fighting shape. Remembering that his fayth body needed food Rowen swallowed a piece of hard bread with cheese, forcing himself to eat the bland cheap food he had bought for the trip. He would need all his gil to rebuild the dissolved Youth League. He had had so high hopes for Nooj and his group! He hadn't liked the name change but there had been nothing he could do. He was stuck in the Farplane like all Fayth and Aeons were after Yuna defeated Yu Yevon. Hence he had been forced to accept the dissolution of the Crusaders to form the Youth League. A League that had lasted just over two years before dissolving! This could not be allowed to stand. Not with evil coming back to haunt Spira.

He was not to blame. How could he have known that Nooj would get himself on a power contest with New Yevon and then dissolve the League? With his absence his front men had used his gil to fund Nooj's troops. A name change, nothing more, he had thought at the time. One must adapt and change with the times after all! But the League had been dissolved. He would have to rebuild the crusaders all over again, like he and Gandof's older brother had to do 600 years ago, Rowen thought to himself grumpily.

Adapt - that was the key word. He needed to adapt to his new/revived body, adapt to this new Spira where Zanarkand was a vibrant city, where the long dead roamed the world and many evils lurked in the shadows... So many changes!

While meditating on his new challenges Rowen made his bed by the fire and settled down for the night. Eventually he dozed off, his many worries forgotten for a brief interval

**Stranger in a strange land**

Rowen woke up before dawn, his trained senses hearing noise and movement around him. Quick as lightning he was on his feet, sword in hand, scanning the cave depths for the source of the slightly metallic rhythmic sound.

After a brief interval he saw a short hooded figure climbing the stone stairs with some difficulty. This was no fiend. Fiends don't have a limp and their steps don't sound like metal hitting the stone. He called up to the stranger.

"Who are you and why do you travel alone in this area ?" Rowen asked the stranger

Surprised Ikari looked up, a bullet sliding down the chamber of the pistol mounted on his mech arm. He tried to scan the tall man but his eye scanner gave him completely absurd readings. No man could have that many health points and mana points. And what were those strange skill readings ? Zanmato ? Wakishasi ? The darn thing must be malfunctioning again!

Ikari decided to tell the truth. At least part of it.

"I'm not alone, I'm just meeting my party at the summit campgrounds. And Mist, my chocobo is grazing on some cave moss below. And you ?" said Ikari returning the question

"Just passing by. But you must be mistaken, there is no party at the Summit campground. I passed by there yesterday and no one was there" answered Rowen

That didn't surprise Ikari although it made him disappointed. He had hoped to find his parents at the Summit campground, like he had left them before waking up in this crazy new Spira. It was a faint hope, but he had to check it. It had taken him a year to gather courage to get this close to Zanarkand and now he had to see it for himself.

"I thank you for the information but I must still go there to meet them. Ikari told the stranger"

Rowen was intrigued. He had not seen anyone in the path from Zanarkand to the summit yesterday. Something was odd with the limping stranger right in front of him. Like the Guado, the fayth could sometimes feel some Farplane "scent" on the unsent. Rowen felt that peculiar Farplane vibration . This stranger had a vague hint of it, but was alive. He decided to try to find out more. He asked the stranger.

"What do you expect to meet at the end of your quest after I just told you the campground is empty ?" asked Rowen

"It may be empty but I have to see it for myself. You see, I was supposed to meet some people very dear to me there..." Ikari answered gravely, thinking of his parents who he had not seen in a year.

"Relax, I'm not saying I saw any dead bodies, just that I saw no one and no camp in the entire trail up to here. Your party must be somewhere else. Are you sure they have already left Zanarkand ?" Rowen said chuckling

Ikari felt the familiar pang at the mention of Zanarkand. Was it guilt for not going there right after waking up that fateful morning not so long ago ? All he knew is that he felt almost physically ill at any mention of the city of his birth. And he didn't know why. He wanted to know, but asking or thinking about Zanarkand was like staring at the sun. It made him burn inside and made his world dark for a long time, every time he attempted to do it. But the stranger needed an answer ...

"Yes, we left it together, a long time ago. I must find out what has become of them with my own eyes, thank you. I must be on my way, I just came here to gab some ice to refill my water pouch..." said Ikari

That was an odd one all right, thought Rowen. Right in front of the stairs there was a short trail that ended in a shallow pool formed by the cave's subterranean streams.

"Why risk climbing all the way to the top of this fiend infested cave if you could just take the water from the cave spring ?" Rowen asked baffled

Ikari was getting annoyed at all the questions so he pulled his sleeve up and showed his mechanic arm, now armed with a pistol, saying:

"Don't really care for getting my weapons wet, but I'll do what I must" Ikari said, now glaring angrily at the stranger

"Just trying to save you a trip, that's all. But if you must, you must. None of my business anyway..." answered Rowen, holding the other's glare without flinching

"You got that right !" Ikari answered flatly and resumed climbing the cave steps, his eyes never leaving Rowen and his hands.

**Chasing a long gone memory**

Rowen eyed the man wearily. As Ikari got closer Rowen could feel the Farplane's peculiar "scent" even more strongly. But he was quite sure Ikari was alive. Weird.

Then it hit him: The man must be a "reborn" just like him. Not a fayth though. As a fayth himself, Rowen would have felt the presence of another fayth from several yards away.

Which meant the guy had lost part of his memory. He had heard that the "reborn" who weren't fayth usually remembered nothing of the war and events afterward... Rowen pitied the guy. There probably was no party waiting for the limping stranger anywhere, it was just an incomplete recollection of an event that took place long ago in a different time in Spira's past. And the poor sap was trekking Gagazet all by himself chasing after an old memory fragment.

He felt inclined to help the stranger. Yuna, Gandof and Braska would have. He could at least join the stranger to the campgrounds without getting too delayed to his trip to Omega Ruins. He said to the man:

- "Wait, don't go alone. There are some fierce Dark Flans and Behemoth fiends ahead. I'll trek with you to the campgrounds, it's not that far" he said, forcing himself to smile.

Ikari glared at the stranger. First he had pestered him with a game of 20 questions now he wanted to be friendly ?

Still, if the stranger wanted to harm him he could have just followed him from a distance or attacked him now on the stairs... He decided to test the man and said:

- "If you are willing to help then meet me down at the cave's main chamber with a full canteen. My chocobo needs water and the trek to get ice is tiring" there, he had feigned an exhaustion that he didn't feel, so that the stranger would feel confident enough to attack him. And he would get a big surprise when he did so...

He went down the stairs with his back turned but on his guard. Any noise behind him and he would use his already armed hammer fist on the stranger's head.

Ikari's ears were no match for Rowen's ninja like silent steps so he got the fright of his life when he saw a full canteen inches from his face, Rowen holding it with a satisfied grin.

- "Hmpf.. I guess you pass the test. With moves like that you could have harmed me any time you wanted to..." admitted Ikari moodily

"You are welcome to join me, but just until I find my party. And no one mounts Mist but me!" he grunted annoyed.

Pretty soon the two were out of the cave, Ikari using a wooden staff and his albino chocobo Mist for balance, his unsure footing made even harder on that frozen wasteland and Rowen walking resolutely ahead of the two scouting for trouble.

Rowen tried to pry more from Ikari - the reborn - but all he got was his name and some icy glares. He decided to drop it, the guy would tell him when he felt ready. Or not. All Rowen wanted was to make sure the stranger would be OK after seeing the deserted campground. Ikari was bound to be shocked when he realized there was no party waiting for him, there had not been any party like the one he was looking for for centuries. He wondered how old Ikari's spirit was. His accent resembled the people he found two days ago at the reborn Zanarkand, so he could be older than Rowen himself. Older than 800 years.

Ikari was feeling that foreboding that he had felt before. In all honesty he didn't want to go see the campground, but his parents would never forgive him if he ruined his mother's apprenticeship with the famous Yu Yevon due to his irrational actions. Six month ago when he awoke at the Summit caves, the thought of getting away from here had been stronger than his willpower and he had left towards the Calm Lands. This time he had to persevere.

It was very hard for him to do so. Deep inside himself a part of Ikari remembered the pain of being back from the war and finding Zanarkand utterly destroyed, his parents and everyone else in the city trapped in a column, turned to fayth by some unknown force. On his conscious self all Ikari knew was that each step towards Zanarkand seemed to stir a deep well of pain inside him. He felt about to die. What cursed spell was this that had been put upon him ? And why on him ? Ikari needed answers to those questions and the answers lied in Zanarkand so in spite of his painful feelings he pressed on.

He eyed the stranger walking ahead of him - Rowen - was the name he had given him. Apparently Rowen was so confident on his fast moves that he had his back turned to Ikari, a stranger he had just met. That guy wouldn't last long with that carefree attitude, that's for sure!

Rowen saw the empty campground right ahead and stopped. He put his back against the frozen stone to wait for Ikari. The cold from the stone seeped through his cape and leather jacket, making him shiver. Bad idea! He stood up disgusted, patting down the snow from his clothes. Being in his mortal body took some getting used to!

Ikari arrived with Mist, looking at Rowen curiously.

"What is up ? Why did you stop ? Is something ahead ?" he asked

Rowen just pointed ahead and make a gesture indicating that Ikari should go first now. It was his trip, his memory. He should see it first.

Slowly, his leg limp worse than the usual, Ikari made his way to the barren campground. He looked around at the desolate windy place. Nothing. Not a soul. His hope of finally finding his friends and family, of finally getting his life back to normal started melting. He felt sick to his stomach. He turned around to Rowen and said:

"You knew this is what I would find. Tell me, what is it that I will find at the end of this trail ? What awaits me at Zanarkand ?" he asked slowly

"A vibrant city, a blitzball stadium, a large market. It is what I left yesterday before my trip to the summit. What.. Who do you expect to find at the end of the trail ?" Rowen answered

"Myself. Answers... Hope" said Ikari with a haunting look

The pain was getting to be more intense now, with his hope of finding his parents and his world being shattered, the shards of it burrowing deep within his heart. Ikari collapsed on the frozen floor, his head buried in his hands and Mist nudged him worriedly.

Rowen was glad he had opted to follow the man. It was obvious Ikari was having a very hard time with his new circumstances. No wonder! With all his 800 years Rowen was having troubles himself! He could only imagine what it must feel to someone plucked out of a familiar world and left into this new, odd and dangerous Spira without the benefit of memory and experience, clueless to his whereabouts or the reason why he was where he was...

Rowen approached Ikari slowly, passing him his flask of sake. He had bought it more for his samurai fire move, but now it seemed to be the closest thing he had to a healing potion for Ikari. "Here, have some of this. Don't beat yourself too hard. Sometimes answers can only be sought when we are ready for them. It is useless and painful as hell to try to get them sooner!" said Rowen to Ikari

Ikari raised his head and took a long sip of the flask without a word. Then another. The warmth brought by the sake proceeded to chase away the despair that had just gripped Ikari. He let out a great sigh and said "Thank you for your kindness. You may be correct, it seems I am not ready to see what awaits me in Zanarkand. I just can't bear the thought of not finding what I seek there... Of loosing the last shreds of hope.." said Ikari without finishing his sentence. Rowen interrupted him before he did saying "Shh... Speak not of what is unknown. You have done enough for today. Let us return to the cave, the wind is shifting and I'm pretty sure it will be much colder soon. We can camp there for the night and perhaps you may want to help me in my quest tomorrow..." Rowen said to the broken man.

Ikari nodded in agreement and Rowen helped him stand up. They made their way back to the cave slowly, as a blizzard was forming and the wind was whipping around thick snow flurries, making it hard for Rowen to keep his eyes open without any eye protection. Ikari had his Al Bhed goggles but had trouble moving with his limp on the slippery and seemingly shifting ground.

Without a word Ikari passed his goggles to Rowen, he knew they would have a much better chance of making it to the cave if one of them could both see and move quickly enough to guide them safely through the fiend infested slopes. After half an hour they made it to the cave, covered with semi melted snow, the damp chill starting to penetrate the inner layers of their clothing. Mercifully the caves had a hot spring running through it. To get rid of the chill they took turns, one swimming on the warm water while the other kept the many water fiends at bay.

Ikari quickly lit a large fire with his flame thrower and they both settled around it for the night, Mist and Ikari ant one side, Rowen on another. Before sleeping Ikari asked slowly: "This thing about you needing my help tomorrow, was that true ?"

Rowen had included the bit about needing help to make it easier for the lad to leave the mountain with him. He didn't need or want any help but it would give Ikari a good excuse to leave this frozen wasteland. Once down in the sunny, warm Calm Lands he was sure Ikari would feel much better and would be itching to go his own way. And Rowen could go on to Omega Ruins with his conscience at ease, so he lied "Yes, but let us leave this discussion for tomorrow. Good night." he said turning around and dozing off soon

**Calm Lands**

Ikari and Rowen made their way down the mountain in the following day, barely speaking, Ikari embarrassed by his outburst the day before and Rowen respecting his companion's wish to stay silent.

The trek down was uneventful but for a battle with a seed thrower which stunned Rowen who had forgotten to shield himself. Ikari quickly disposed of the fiend with his flame thrower and then had to heal Rowen who had been burned by a bomb fiend.

"You should use shields against those seedpods. They are pretty fast with those seeds!" Ikari said to Rowen

"Hmpf.. He caught me off guard that's all" said Rowen annoyed at himself for forgetting to take such a basic precaution

"You are pretty fast on your feet but shielding is no shame, it's just a battle strategy, you know ?" added Ikari

Rowen's pride took possession of his better judgement and he found himself saying angrily: "Yes, I know, I wrote the book on battle strategy so spare me your layman's advice!"

"Whatever you say... " answered Ikari and sulked for the rest of the trek

After calming down Rowen regretted his harsh words. That pride of his had got him nowhere but in trouble. Unsure of how to make amends he asked if Ikari wanted to make camp. "No, the sooner we make it to the bottom of the mountain the better..." answered Ikari moodily.

"As you wish. Have you decided on your plans after we get there ?" asked Rowen

"Well, I don't think someone who writes battle strategy books needs my help so I will go find myself some treasure in that cave in the bottom of the Calm Lands gorge" answered Ikari, still stung by Rowen's outburst.

Rowen paused and turned around to look at Ikari, at Ikari's mention of the cave, his cave, the place he had been trapped the last 800 years. No way he was going to get in there of his own free will, now that he was free. He sighed heavily and said with a haunted look in his eyes "I guess I deserved that jab. You are more than welcome to accompany me anywhere I'm going but I won't set foot in that cave..."

"Huh ? Bad memories, heh ? I am the last one to be able to criticize but they say there's a large treasure waiting at the cave's deep end" Ikari said to Rowen, mollified at the other's unspoken pain.

"There is no treasure there, just fiends, fierce and hungry ones. And a place for greedy Summoners to meet their match at the end of the cave" Rowen said shuddering at the memory of countless Summoners coming to request his powers unprepared for the trials ahead of them.

"Really ? Have you been there ?" asked Ikari interested

"Yes. For much longer than I cared to. I won't be joining you. I never belonged in that place to start with" answered Rowen with a firm decisive voice

"It seems you beat me to yet another place. I'll take your word for it. I think I will go check the Macalania temple instead. Do you know where it's at ?" said Ikari chuckling, trying to bring some levity to the subject

"Yes, it's at the other side of the Calm Lands. Come, let us resume our trek and I'll accompany you there. It's in my way anyway" answered Rowen, looking a bit less haunted by his memories

The two men proceeded down the mountain trails, quickly crossing the Calm Lands and getting to Macalania Woods.


	4. Chapter 4 Yojimbo's Journal

You know me as Yojimbo.

I look barely 25 years old. Appearances are deceiving. I am actually 800 years old, born right after Lord Mi'hen formed the Warrior Monks corps to complement his Crusader order. When I was alive, I was known as Rowen and was rarely seen without my sword and without my dog Seika by my side.

I am immortal now, the fayth of the Aeon Yojimbo, the body guard, which together with his faithful lion-dog Daigoro aids summoners in the battle against Sin. This wasn't my idea. I agreed to die to rid Spira of Sin, yes. But Ghirlon, my first Summoner, never used me as a Final Aeon so I remained masterless, abandoned at the bottom of the Calm Lands gorge, deep into a cave. The cave of the stolen fayth, the people in Spira call it, perhaps imagining I was once deserving of a temple and got "stolen" and placed here. Not so. The only thing stolen was my honor. By deciding to live and not using me to stop Sin Ghirlon robbed me the opportunity to redeem myself and retrieve my family's honor. I curse him until today.

I had vowed to never trust a summoner again, after Ghirlon's cowardice and betrayal. But I'm getting ahead of myself. My story needs to be told properly.

I have few recollections of my childhood in Luca, one of the many sons and daughters of a prominent family, living a carefree life, or as carefree as it could be in a Spira with Sin looming in the horizon, ready to kill thousands in the blink of an eye.

Atoning for our mistakes and earning the right to get redeemed from Sin was atop every Spiran's mind and my father was no different. As it was customary at the time, he had promised to send one of his offspring to study and be a monk at the heart of the Yevon Church in Bevelle. That honor befell on myself and at 10 I left Luca to study in Bevelle's monastery.

I never saw my family again, as Sin attacked Luca soon after and our house and my entire kin died in the attack. I was alone in the world, the only one left. At the time, it never occurred to me that I could leave the monastery and live my own life. Quite the opposite. I knew I was there to carry on the family's honor and tradition, and now as the only living member of my family I felt doubly bound to keep my family's name and honor intact. Besides the monastery now was the only place I could call home. I devoted myself completely to my studies, to dull the pain and to ensure I would never stain my family's honor.

After two years in Bevelle's priesthood school I was being considered very skilled at sword combat and combat in general. That is when I had the honor of being chosen as a pupil of Lord Mi'hen who had founded both the Crusaders and the Warrior Monks a decade before. After that, I applied myself even harder to my studies, to please Lord Mi'hen and show myself worthy of his trust and affection. We spent days on end training and talking and he got to be the closest thing to a father I had, after my own father died. I was happy then, but didn't know it, the weight of carrying my family's honor and of being deserving of the esteem of such a legendary figure marred my days and nights, filling them with worry.

I needn't have worried. With Lord Mi'hem as my teacher and with my dedication my skills were developing fast, I was accepted as a swordsmanship teacher to the Warrior Monks when I was 16. Of course the naysayers indicated that my mentor had had a hand in the process, but those who said it didn't know me and Lord Mi'hem. If anything, my acceptance was made harder due to my personal friendship to the great man. I had to prove to myself and to him that I was worthy of it, not due to our friendship, but due to my skill. My acceptance test brought tears of pride to his eyes, as it was obvious that I was more than ready for the post. I wept also, for the first time since my family's loss.

After that test, I threw myself heart and soul to the task of teaching and perfecting my skills, to shush the naysayers. By 19, I was already the lead combat teacher, without the need of a single word from Lord Mi'hem. My students demanded it :grin:

After I reached 20 I thought I was free from the worry of being deserving of my mentors trust, and of keeping my family's name in honor. My skills and my student's skills were known and respected across all Temples. Even the naysayers had to admit - often at the tip of one of my student's swords ;) - that a student of mine was a fierce adversary not to be trifled with. I was finally able to be proud at myself. And that was the start of my downfall: pride.

Lord Mi'hen put ahead of preparing candidates to be warrior monks soon after I reached 20. While in that post Lord Mi'hen honored me once more, by asking my advice and help to write several books on strategy and sword fighting and even other skills needed for what he envisioned the warrior-monk's life should be.

Our teachings weren't limited to swordplay and strategy. As an elite corps the Warrior Monks were required to know how to heal and it occurred to me that warrior monks had to know how to have discipline, never ending patience and how to sometimes deal with conflict using a light touch. Force doesn't always solve problems. True strength comes from knowing when to use force and when to refrain from using it. I had been saying that to all my students, but on a book my sermons seemed hollow, easily forgotten by hurried students bent on passing a written test then promptly emptying their mind of all that was on it. - Aye, I know how students think. I have been one myself:grin: -

Thinking about written test and how soon their subjects are forgotten made me remember my (poor) attempts at calligraphy, right when I arrived at the monastery, when one of my teachers put me decorating temple books with those long, clumsy ink pens. "The pen is mightier than the sword" he used to say, which for a class full of active 10 year old boys was utter nonsense. We literally bounced in our chairs with impatience, waiting for the class to finish to be able to go sparring with our peers on the combat class that followed.

I remember it being pure torture to me, and I was glad to be rid of those calligraphy classes at 12. But being in charge of keeping my family honor I had to excel even in that so I did try my best to not only get a passing grade, but to get the teacher to praise my work. I spent long hours practicing calligraphy in my bunk, a time I sorely lamented losing, as I could be spending it in perfecting my sword skills. In spite of my dislike for it, my dedication eventually paid off and I was able to do a reasonable enough book decoration. One of my short prayer books was even added to the temple's library. Yevon's tears, that short book took it's sweet time to perfect:roll:

Looking back at those times while puzzling on how to teach patience, discipline, dedication and the limits of force to my students I finally realized that those calligraphy lessons helped me learn those same lessons. While my friends were sparring non-stop I was forced to take long breaks and patiently yield the brushes and pens with the lightest touch I could, with a keen focus and inner calm. The slightest hesitation or rush would bring about a stain and ruin the whole page. My legendary calm and focus in battle were nothing compared to the focus and calm I had to achieve to properly decorate a prayer book. Perhaps the same would be true for our students now.

I mentioned my idea and my reasoning to Lord Mi'hen and he agreed that it was paramount for his pupils to know what to do when brute force could not be used to resolve problems. I passionately proposed that calligraphy could teach the recruits that. He agreed to give it a try.

Never one to suggest something for his pupils that he was unable to do, Lord Mi'hen wanted ME to teach him calligraphy also and required that I excelled at calligraphy as I would be the one to teach our students to draw the flowery Yevon's symbols with ease and perfection. Here I go rushing like mad to find my old teacher and beg him to make me a calligraphy master before the next semester. Boy did I "stepped on it" as you students are fond of saying! ;)

(to be continued soon)

Notes:

1) Yojimbo means bodyguard in Japanese, which is usually the only job that the Ronin (masterless samurai) were left to do.

2) Yojimbo's fayth Rowen's story is inspired in one of the most famous Ronin on Japan's history: Miyamoto Musashi, the famed swordsman. Musashi wrote _The Book of Five Rings_ about the warrior skills. Throughout the book, Musashi implies that the way of the Warrior, as well as the meaning of a "True strategist" is that of somebody who has made mastery of many art forms away from that of the sword, such as tea drinking and painting , like Musashi who practiced them throughout his life. See Wikipedia for details on the real life version of "Rowen".


End file.
